To Kill and Save
by CountryGirl93
Summary: I was twelve when my world changed, but a lot has happened since then. I have grown up, but not old. I have fallen in love and fallen in line. I have cared deeply and cared naught. I have been found, forgotten, and abandoned. I am your worst nightmare and your deepest desire. I am a contract killer, a werewolf, and at the moment a waitress. Come and let me tell you my story.
1. Let Me Tell You a Story

Prologue: Let Me Tell You a Story

Some call me Child, some call me the Huntsman, and a very select few call me by the name I was given – a name that was thrown onto me when I was nothing more than a lass, caught up in a world that was far above my then limited range of knowledge. I was twelve when it happened. But that was nearly a century ago, and a lot has happened since then. I have grown up, but not old. I have fallen in love and fallen in line. I have cared deeply and cared naught. I have been found, forgotten, and abandoned. I have survived. What am I? That is a wonderful question, my friend. I am your worst nightmare and your deepest desire. I am a contract killer, a werewolf, and at the moment a waitress at the oh-so-classy establishment by the name of Racks Racks Racks – and yes it is considered a titty bar by most of high society, but hell, I have to pay the rent somehow.

Now that I have your attention, let me tell you the story of how my life was royally fucked over by the only bastard brave enough to come after me … and fall in love.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of the Mercy Thompson/Alpha and Omega series.**

**_Hey All! I hope you enjoy my story. Read, Comment, and Enjoy! -CG93_**


	2. If It's Too Good to be True

Chapter One: If It's Too Good to be True…

I had pulled closing, again. It's not that I don't mind the cleaning up and sweeping out, but it's the clearing of the bar that makes me cringe. Don't get me wrong. I could take any one of the bruisers that attempted on a weekly basis to pick me up, but I choose not to. I have a few rules, rules that have kept me alive since my mate and our pack was butchered, and I like to stick to them. First: Never Attract Attention. It seems simple enough, but when you go all furry at least once a month, it can be damn hard. Second: Don't Let Others In. This one was for self-preservation. When your mate, your other half, is killed along with the rest of your family, you tend not to let others in… not that I had let others in too much before, but there is always the chance My third and final rule is this: If It's Too Good to be True, Run… and run fast. It was the third rule that I forgot.

With Heart crooning softly on the jukebox about being alone, I worked my way around the large, open room, wiping tabled and slinging the chairs up on top. I was singing under my breath, or I would have known he was behind me long before I smelled him. Thank god he hadn't bathed in nearly a month and was human, or I think he would have gotten far closer before I swung around, brandishing the buck knife that I had neatly tucked into a very secret place on my body.

"Whoa, little lady," he drawled, a hint of Oklahoma or maybe North Texas, but I was guessing Oklahoma, coming through in his speech.

"Name's not 'Little Lady'," I scowled back, lowering the knife a hair but not completely. "We're closed. Come back tomorrow."

"But I waited all night to talk to you… alone."

The last was what got my hackles up. True, I could change into a ravenous beast, but that change took a long time, about fifteen minutes longer than I had time for. I contemplated my options, and saw few. I could attack now, disable him with first my rag to his face and then a chair to his head. That would eliminate him as a problem, but then he would be all suspicious on why I attacked and left him to the wolves, so to speak, on the floor of Racks Cubed. I could also ask him what he wanted to talk to me about, but I'm not too big into small talk. I decided to go with the later, and only because I could always beat him up later.

"Well you have me." I gave him my million, mega-watt smile and hitched a hip onto the table behind me. Lowering the knife to my side, I oozed relaxation.

Oklahoma grinned and relaxed his stance a bit as well. "So," he began slowly.

"So," I repeated back.

"You the person they call the Huntsman?"

"Who's asking?"

This was an old game I played. Someone would come in, looking for my particular set of skills and I would deliver, for a small sum of course. I would ask who was asking and they would reply in some ambiguous way, and end with a creepy assed smile.

I was not disappointed with Oklahoma. He grinned, the left side of his mouth hitching up further than his right, and drawled, "Oh these people and those."

I nodded. "Who?"

"How much first."

This was also part of the game. But this was my best part.

Shoving myself gracefully off of the table, I paced around him, slow and stealthy like. "Now, now, now. I can't give you an estimate until I know who my prey is. I'm not going to charge you a deadbeat price for killing a senator, now am I?"

"Guess not," he conceded. His head followed me as I finished my round. "The name is Mikael Zimmerhaus. He's a… well not really human, but not really fae either."

"What is he then?"

"We'll go with mostly human. He has a bit of fae and we think a bit of witch, but they are both generations back. And we need him and everyone at his address taken out."

Half fae half witch and diluted with human. I wasn't liking the profile, but I did my quick thinking and sighed. If he was as harmless as the human before me thought he was, I could take him out relatively easily, a quick one two stab stab. But there was the little problem of the 'everyone at his address' detail.

"How many people would be at this address?

I got a shrug. "A few, but they won't be hard to take out. I can assure you of that."

His cockiness bumped up my price. I named the sum and grinned to myself as he blanched. "Highway robbery!" he sputtered.

"Do you want me to take it or not?"

"Fine," he muttered. Reaching behind him, he pulled a duffle bag towards him – I had missed that detail when he arrived, but saw it when I did my little circle thing. He pulled out the stacks of bills and gave me half. "You'll get the rest when they're dead."

"Aye, aye Capt." I scooped up the stacks of bills and placed them onto the table behind me. "I assume you know the way to the door?"

"Little bitch," he muttered, storming away.

I let out a laugh and called at his back, "Again, not my name!" before returning to my chores of cleaning up the bar.

* * *

Two days of stakeouts and three evenings later, I was reasonably certain of Mr. Zimmerhaus's activities. There was him and another man who seemed to reside in the home, and to my acute observations, they were not gay. Roommates, I assumed, but both stereotypical red-blooded males. Zimmerhaus had a faint scent of fae and witch, but like Oklahoma had said, the blood was thin. His roommate was one hundred percent human. Yay me! The kills would be easy – in and out in no time.

I rolled my shoulders and settled back into my waiting hole, which was literally a hole in the ground. There was a rock digging into my left thigh, but there wasn't much I could do about it. I had tried to pull it out, but alas, the rock was in deeper than wide.

I shifted my weight again and waited for the last light to go out in the house. There was no way I was rushing into a house full of wide awake men when I could slip in silently and slit a few throats. I was nothing if not efficient in my time. Why create more work for yourself – that was something Hugh had always said to me… I pushed the painful memory of my lost mate away rolled my shoulders once again.

Nearly three hours later the last light had been flicked off for over an hour. "Time to roll," I muttered to myself, stretching out my legs as I stood up. My bones crackled a bit, the kinks working their way out as I swayed back and forth, before settling on the balls of my feet.

The lawn leading up to the side of the house that led into the office, something I had checked out on my many hours of stakeouts, was long and gently sloped towards the house. The grass was cut golf course short, something I thanked the gods for, and meant I would be leaving no tracks. The window I had chosen to go through was cracked open with only a flimsy screen to block my way. I loved trusting people, but kind of felt bad for them when I came a knocking at their front door.

It took less than five minutes to enter into the house, pausing to let my wolf scent out my surroundings. I knew there were only the two men home, both of them upstairs, but something felt off. You know the little tingle that runs up your spine when something isn't right? Well I got one of those bad boys as I began to walk out of the office and into the rest of the house.

A board squeaked under my weight in the hallway and a draft from the now open window was gently tapping something wooden against something cloth, perhaps a door against a curtain, but the sounds were light enough to blend into the nighttime sounds that naturally penetrated the walls.

Something shifted upstairs as I began my ascent, causing me to stop like an idiot playing freeze tag. One foot was up, one was down, my left hand was gripping the banister and my right was wrapped around the hilt of a wicked looking dagger. The shifting stopped, I waited a beat and then another before continuing on my way upstairs.

The landing at the top of the stairs was tidy in a way that stated people lived in the home. A little table was pushed against one wall and a phone, vase of flowers, and picture frame was placed on its surface. I didn't take the time to look at the photo, and later wished I had – the surprise that awaited me was not something that I liked.

I opened the first door in the hallway and smiled. Zimmerhaus was sound asleep, sprawled diagonally across his bed. His breaths came in quick little huffs, rhythmic and soothing. I crossed the room, said a silent prayer for the soul I would be releasing into the world, and slit his throat. He was dead before he knew what had happened to him. Quick and efficient. I said another prayer and crossed myself, better safe than sorry, and reminded myself to go to Confession on my next day off.

I exited Zimmerhaus's room and crossed the hall to the second closed door. With the only other door being open and leading into the bathroom, I was certain that the door I was standing in front of was the roommate's. I slowly pushed the door open and cursed when the scent hit me. There wasn't just one person in the room. No. There wasn't one, or even two, but there were three people sleeping in the second bedroom.

There was a family in that room. I knew it from the scent, the feel, and the fact that there were two adult sized lumps on the bed and a bassinette in the corner.

Fuck me. That was the only thought that crossed my mind as the next piece of information came to me. The woman lying next to the human man had the blood of a witch. Double fuck.

I snuck across the room and peeked at the child. It couldn't have been more than three or four months old, and it was awake. The only good thing about it was the fact that it smelled only of human. That could change, I knew that from experience, but for the time being, the child was of no danger to me.

The shifting sound came again and the breathing on the bed changed. I slowly turned and stared at the man.

"What the-?" He began his sentence, but never finished it. I was fast, I was efficient, and there was a hell of a blood spray. The two bodies were slumped over one another, blood turning the sheets from white to crimson, and making my wolf side beg for a tiny taste.

I shoved down the impulse to feast and turned back to the child. It hadn't made a sound as I killed its parents, only looking at me with those big blue eyes of the young. I had to kill it. That was my job and I never backed down from a job, but as I stared at the baby, something came over me, an almost fuzzy feeling that encircled my heart and made me want to gather up the child and never let go.

As I reached for the child, intending on placing it next to its parents before I did the final deed, a rush of power descended onto the house. Fae. My wolf told me that with absolute certainty and a flutter of panic filled me.

I had the child in my arms and I let the wolf take over. Letting my wolf rule wasn't one of my favorite things to do, but it did have its upsides. I didn't have to think and my instincts took over.

By the time I came back into full control of my body, I was back at my tiny apartment, clutching a baby and covered in blood.


	3. A Man Walks Into a Bar

Chapter Two: A Man Walks Into a Bar

The panic should have been taking hold by now, but it wasn't. I had cleaned myself up and the baby, which I discovered to my joy to be a little girl, and with both of us in clean clothes, she was wrapped in an old shirt of mine, we were seated in my living room.

"What am I going to call you?" I asked her, playing with her toes as she giggled up at me without making a sound. "I can't call you Lucky Duck, but oh I want to." I smiled down at her and she smiled back. "You remind me of my mother. So quiet and understanding, never making a fuss. Should I name you after her?" She made a cooing shape with her mouth but no sound came out, but I still considered it acceptance to name her after my long deceased mother. Another rush of pain overcame me as I battled to shove my feelings back where they belonged.

"Welcome, Flick." I lowered my lips to her soft head and kissed her gently.

With my lips pressed to her head, my thoughts began to clear. There were a few things I was sure of. One, I was going to keep this beautiful girl safe if it was the last thing I did. Two, something with a hell of a lot of magic had entered that house as I fled – which meant there was a good chance I was all alone and about to face something dangerous. Which led me to number three. I was way over my head with this all. I had a baby, a failed assignment, and no pack.

Rolling my shoulders to attempt to release some of the built up tension, I smiled down at Flick. "We need to pack and…" I bit out a groan as I realized what I needed to do. I didn't like it, but there was nothing else to do. We needed to head north – north to the strongest wolf in America, if not the world, and beg for mercy. I had just killed an entire family, kidnapped their child, and was alone in a world that looked down on women acting alone. Sometimes, the conclusion came over me, I was too dominant for my own good. Without a pack, I didn't have anyone I was forced to listen to. I did what I pleased, and unfortunately I was the only one to pay the price. With the Marrok at my back, I could (in theory) survive this latest endeavor and also save Flick.

Moving quickly, packed what few belongings I had and needed. I really only had my clothes, shoes, two paperback novels (one I was halfway through and the other was the next in the series), and a fading scrapbook. I traveled light and traveled often in my line of work, and when time was of the essence, I could pack in twenty minutes.

With all of my belongings in a single suitcase, I gathered Flick close to my body and headed towards my car. I figured I would make a quick stop at the local Walmart to pick up supplies, gather up my money from the three locations I had quick cash stashed, and then be on our merry way. I would start north and pray for a miracle.

The shopping trip was easy, if not interesting. I would have guessed people would comment about a woman carrying a child (with no diaper and only an adult shirt) into a store, but I guessed wrong. The sleepy looking teenager who had the wonderful fortune of pulling the graveyard shift didn't even bat an eyelash as I plunked down the baby carrier, clothes, diapers, wipes, food, formula, a teddy bear, and a blanket. He rung up my purchases and wished me a sleepy good day as I left the store. From the experience alone, I came to realize why so many kidnapping cases took so long to be discovered. I was a complete mess and the teenager hadn't even questioned my being.

The gathering of the money was a bit harder. The first stash of money was in the floorboards of an old abandoned church. It was an easy in and out job, but did require more physical energy than I usually liked to expend. The second stash was in the back room of the little deli on Main Avenue, to which I conveniently had the key to. The final location was the bane of my existence, but also my largest stash.

If anyone thought Racks Cubed was a seedy place to drink, compared to the Full Moon, it was a palace. The Full Moon catered to a more rugged crowd, and had the upside of being open twenty-four seven. The building was in dire need of a paint job and the inside looked a bit like hell warmed over with a dash of 'kill me now' thrown in. Like I said, Racks Cubed was a freaking wonder in comparison.

I normally wouldn't bring a baby into a bar, but there were only three cars in the lot and I felt much more certain of Flick's safety with me rather than in the car. Also, I figured that it was illegal to leave a baby (even a kidnapped one) in a car unattended. So together Flick and I braved the Moon and entered the side door.

If despair could be tasted, which it could if you knew what you were looking for, the Full Moon was saturated in the scent. Two guys were seated at the bar, as far apart as they could be from one another, and another man was lazily throwing darts in the back corner. Each and every dart struck smoothly home in the bull's-eye, leading me to think that he wasn't playing for points.

TJ, the bartender, spotted me as I walked around one of the tables and gave me a tiny nod. We had a deal worked out: He kept my money safe, I didn't kill a certain few of his clientele. So far it had worked wonders.

Flick and I slipped through the partition of the bar and into the tiny office behind it. I shut and locked the door, set Flick on the desk, and began working the lock of the safe. Three to the left, seven to the right, twelve to the left, pause three seconds, nine to the left, and finish off with lucky number thirteen to the right. The lock snicked open and I gathered up the cash. There was a few thousand, if I remembered right, and I was determined to keep it safe. So I did what any insane person would do. I hid the money, all of it, under the lining of Flick's carrier. She wiggled, making no noise, and settled back down into a more comfortable position in the carrier, clutching her new teddy.

I was about to open up the door to go back into the bar, when I smelled him. The atmosphere in the bar had changed, and I knew I was screwed. While I had planned to go north to beg for mercy from the Marrok, I never figured the Marrok would be coming south to find me. By going there I could have possibly pleaded my case before the Marrok killed me, but I knew Flick would have been safe. With the Marrok's man here, we were both dead. My luck was not holding up tonight.

Now how did I know it was a man of the Marrok? Well I wasn't one hundred percent positive, but I could smell a dominant male when one came into contact with me. They all had a certain scent to them – power and pain of others. At least that was what the smelled like to me. Another thing I had going for me was the fact that I was quite possibly the most dominant female in the werewolf community, which meant that as a lone wolf, there were only about a dozen males who could control me. I could name and identify all of the Alphas and had the experience of meeting the Marrok and his two sons. The man who had walked into the bar was dominant to the nth degree and wasn't anyone I knew – at least not personally. I had heard rumors that the Marrok had acquired a new enforcer, someone from the old countries, and I had a feeling I was about to meet him.

As wonderful as the bar was, the office was a shitty place to be stuck. There was only one door. And on the other side of that door was a very big, bad wolf. I grabbed Flick's carrier and gently took her out before setting it beneath the desk. Screw the carrier and save the baby – those were my thoughts. They stayed with me as I heard TJ mumble something and the sound of silently heavy footsteps close in on the door. The handle rattled and then was torn completely off.

For the second time in one night, I let my wolf take over. I could count on one hand how many times I had let my wolf completely take over in the past dozen years, and I would have still had fingers to spare.

The door swung open, the man stepped in, and I kept my eyes trained to the ground as my body curled itself into a tiny ball on my knees around Flick. I shudder ran through me as I felt the man's power and gaze, taking in me and the child I held.

"You're a hard wolf to find," he finally said after a few tense moments on my part.

I didn't say anything and kept my head down.

"Who's child?"

The words were uttered as a command to answer, and for the first time since I had lost my mate, I felt the compulsion to answer. "She's the child of some people I met tonight."

Just because I had to answer didn't mean I was going to spill my guts. I knew the man would be able to smell lies and prayed that he wasn't as good with half-truths.

"Did you kill her parents?"

I couldn't get around this answer. "Yes," I murmured. "I took a job that entailed a bit more than I wanted to chew off. The child is an innocent, and I would ask that you not kill her."

"I'm not going to kill you, Huntsman."

This statement caused me to shoot my head up, but I was able to refrain from looking in his eyes. He was powerful and in comparison I was a weakling.

"Then what do you want from me?" I questioned.

I felt the shrug. "The Marrok wanted to meet you. I was just sent to pick you up and deliver you."

I nodded. "Just as well. I was planning on making the trip just now. I got into a bit of trouble, but after the Marrok hears about what happened tonight, I have a feeling I will be meeting my Maker."

"I assume you mean a higher power and not the wolf that bit you?" I glanced up again, stunned by the fact the man in front of me had just made a joke.

"Yes."

The man began walking towards me, and I rolled up and onto my feet, still keeping my head lowered. "Grab the carrier and put the child into it. If we head out now, we can be in Montana by tomorrow evening or so."

Again I nodded. "Thank you for not killing me now."

The man laughed, a sound that was both scornful and soothing. "I have a feeling I won't be the one killing you, and that you will be living a long life, Huntsman."

This time, when I looked his way, our eyes met. I was nearly knocked to my knees, my grip tightening on Flick, and I could tell by his increased heartbeat that he had been affected too. I hadn't felt this connection since my mate had died. My wolf preened under the power of the mating connection while my human side screamed silently in terror. This was the last person that I should be attracted to, but for the second time in my life (one more than I had figured), I was attracted to a powerful male and could do nothing about it.


	4. Can I Phone a Friend?

Chapter Three: Can I Phone a Friend?

I glanced over at the man beside me, making sure I avoided his eyes. My wolf wasn't too pleased, but God, I needed a few moments before I decided to throw myself to the wolves – pun intended. The expectation I had had of the man was about as far off as it could be. He had been domineering in the bar, but after ordering me to pick up Flick, he had carefully taken the carrier from me, walked past the patrons in the bar, out to the car, and had deftly strapped Flick into the backseat. Then he had silently transferred items from my car to his – all in his 'I'm an Alpha Wolf' kind of way.

Now we were idling in the parking lot of the 24-7 Diner, the man staring straight ahead, Flick waving her tiny arms in the backseat, and me alternating my stares between him, the diner, and the baby.

He was the one to break the silence. "What's her name?"

"Flick."

"Flick?" I could hear the incredulity in his voice.

I shrugged. "She reminded me of the woman who raised me, my … mother. Felicity is a good name, but she seemed a bit more like a Flick. You can call her something else if you want."

His eyes roamed across my face as I kept mine staring ahead. "I like the name Flick. It's cute but not too cute."

I had to agree with the statement. Most people would see the name as prissy, but the name was much more. A name always was.

"So what should I call you?"

This time I could hear the smile in his voice when he answered. "Fin. Finbar Douglas." His slight accent came out a bit more when he said his name, and the little lightbulb went on in my head.

"I've heard stories about you, Finbar of the River Black. You were a force to be reckoned with… and then you disappeared, the stories stopped being told."

Fin laughed. "The Marrok invited me to America."

"How long ago was that?"

"Two centuries? Three? It's hard to keep track of as you age. How long have you been here?"

A sad smile crossed my lips as I chanced a glance at him. He wasn't able to catch hold of my gaze, but I could see the flicker of gold in his eyes. His wolf was close to the surface.

His eyebrow went up and I remembered his question. "World War Two. 1943 to be exact."

"What made you come?"

"Turmoil in Europe. America was safer than Switzerland for someone like me."

"Like you?"

I shook my head. "It's a long story. I might tell you on our drive north…"

He nodded in acceptance. "I need to call the Marrok. You should grab some food for us."

It was said as a suggestion, the principal word being 'should', so I smiled wryly and said, "I'll stay in the car and tell the Marrok my side of the story."

"Very well," he murmured, pulling a cellphone from his pocket. He pressed a few buttons and then placed the phone on the center console, the sound of the dial tone filling his car.

The phone was on its third ring when the Marrok answered.

"Finbar. I assume you have our guest?" the Marrok asked as a greeting.

"Hello, sir," I replied as an answer.

"Kindra Hexenblut! How are you doing, child?"

"Not so well, Bran." If he was going to use my name, I was sure as hell going to use his. Fin gave me an interesting look when the Marrok said my name, but he didn't comment. He hadn't asked me for a name (I was fine being called the Huntsman), and to be honest, I wouldn't have told him anyways.

"What happened?"

This was the Marrok I had been expecting. Getting straight down to business was a talent of his, and one I appreciated.

Fin looked at me, and this time I met his eyes. Warmth washed through me as he inclined his head as offering for me to continue. I took a deep breath and kept my eyes locked with Fin's. "I took on a job that was a bit bigger than I could handle," I said.

Bran murmured in acknowledgement and I told my story. I explained how the human from Oklahoma had approached me with a job and how I had staked out the house. I told him how I had thought there were only two men in the house and that the witch and her child with the second but human man were a surprise. I kept the gory details to a minimum and ended with, "And that's when the fae magic came crashing through the house. I let my wolf take over and when I got back under control, I was at my apartment with the baby."

"What did you name her?" Bran's question threw me. I had just told him how I had murdered three people in front of a baby and he was asking what her name was.

"Flick," Fin answered. "She's a happy little thing. Quiet as a mouse too."

"Did you recognize the type of fae magic, Kinder?"

Closing my eyes I took myself back to the house and let the sensation of the fae wash over me. With my eyes still closed, I whispered, "It is strong. _Mächtig_. Powerful, but I'm not sure if it is really old. Maybe a century or two, but it doesn't feel like the old school bad asses from the _Alte Welt_. It had a flavor, a taste to it, but I can't explain it. _Seltsam_." I opened my eyes.

The Marrok was silent for a few moments before saying, "Do you believe you were set up?"

My gut told me yes, so I didn't answer.

"I thought so," murmured. I could feel his attention switch to Fin as if he was in the car with us. "I want you to check it out. See what it is. No one attacks my wolves without facing me. Keep me updated."

With that, the line went dead.

Fin took his phone and placed it back in his pocket. He glanced at me and then to the backseat at Flick. "I'm hungry, so let's get a bite to eat before finding a place to stay for a few days."

I was about to retort to the last statement when he cut me off. "Your home is not safe. They will be looking for you, and there will be where they look first.

"There's a roadside motel on old 99. It's shady, but it's easy to defend."

This time he nodded with a stern face, got out of the car, plucked Flick from her carrier, and left me scrambling behind him and into the diner.

* * *

When I had said the motel was shady, I hadn't been mean enough. A murder could take place in the room next door and no one would bother calling it in. Thankfully, the seedy motel was just what Fin was looking for. The front faced the highway, the back faced the woods, and smells stuck to the place like stink on a warthog. There wouldn't be any possibility that either Fin or I wouldn't be able to smell any foes in our midst.

I brushed another soft caress over Flick's hair and tried to think of something other than the wolf in the room. I had been a big fan of fairy tales growing up, mostly because my mother had forbidden them, but I knew that the stories with wolves never ended well… for anyone.

"Try and get some sleep," Fin rumbled from the opposite bed.

"Too wired. I'll keep watch and crash later."

"Want to talk about it?"

I didn't attempt to figure out what he meant by that. The sun was slowly creeping up the sky and I had been going for a straight twenty-four hours by this point.

"Talk about what?"

He shrugged. He did that a lot, I noted. "The phone call, the contracted hits, the tension in this room… or you could tell me a story… or I could tell you one…"

My head turned slowly to face him. "Ask me a question. I'll try to answer it and see where it goes."

"It might just relax you enough for you to sleep a bit." One of those quick smiles crossed his face - another thing he did a lot, but this time I figured he only did it around me. "Hexenblut. Witch blood."

"My mother was a witch. Black as all get out. I don't really know how we all survived."

"You named an innocent child after a black witch?" His tone was one of revulsion.

I couldn't help but laugh. "No. My birth mother was a witch. The woman, Felicity, who I named Flick after was the woman who took me in when I was first changed. She was the alpha's mate."

"Was?"

"Human, but a kind soul. She passed away in the sixties. I think she might have broken one-hundred." I smiled at the memory.

"Did you have a good childhood?"

That was one question that I had always wrestled with. "Yes and no," I finally said. "My birth mother was a black witch, as were my sister and brother. I had a touch of magic, but I never had a strong taste for blood when I was human." I laughed at the irony of that statement now.

"Guess you got over that."

"Yeah," I murmured.

Our eyes met and this time I held his gaze. He knew who was more dominant, but he also knew that I needed the connection, if just for a little while.

"None of us were named. Mutter was paranoid and believed with all her might that if she didn't name her children, then we would never be found by death. I wasn't found by death, but I was found by a wolf. He attacked. I changed. The pack took me in, and Felicity took to calling me Kindra, as if it were my real name. I wasn't child, I was Child!" The feeling of that name still brought a rush of joy, even after all these years.

"Being born to a witch in 1921 in the armpit of the Swiss Alps wasn't a walk in the park. We were isolated from most everything, but there were times when the world came crashing in around us. When I joined the pack, I was introduced to the real world for the first time."

"How old were you?"

"When I was changed?" He nodded. "Twelve. I was twenty-two when I came to the states with my mate."

Something dark crossed across his face. His eyes changed from brown to gold flecked. "You have a mate?" his jaw was clenched tight.

"Had." The word came out on the barest of whispers. I turned away from him and curled around Flick. "They're all gone."

I didn't look back at him when I heard him stand up, but I also didn't flinch when he carefully covered me with one of the blankets. "Sleep, Kindra. We'll deal with the world when you wake up."

With the way his voice had caressed my name filling my head, I slipped into a deep and surprisingly restful sleep.

* * *

_**Hello All!**_

_**I hope you are enjoying the story. I would love to hear what you think of it!**_

_**-CG93**_


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